


And So the Blind May See

by Cinaed



Category: CSI: Las Vegas
Genre: Developing Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Temporary Blindness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-07
Updated: 2006-07-07
Packaged: 2017-10-08 03:43:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/72352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinaed/pseuds/Cinaed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Later, David will try to figure out the various aspects of the accident and try to reason out if it was his fault or not. He suspects it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And So the Blind May See

Later, David will try to figure out the various aspects of the accident and try to reason out if it was his fault or not. He suspects it is, although some of the events that led up to the accident weren't in his control. It wasn't his fault that half of the CSIs and several technicians were sick from the flu, so that they were understaffed. It certainly wasn't his fault that he was the unfortunate tech who got dragged by Greg and Sara to the crime scene when a call went out about an entire family being murdered. 

It _was_, however, his fault that Greg left the master bedroom. Greg put up with David's steady stream of bitching and moaning for all of five minutes before telling him that it was the one time he'd get dragged to a scene, so stop whining. A few ill-humored insults turned Greg's face a brilliant shade of crimson, and the CSI had stormed out of the master bedroom, muttering something about needing 'decent conversation.' Maybe if Greg had stayed in the room, he would have been able to stop the officer. Then again, if Greg had stayed, he might be as dead as the cop was, and so David cannot help but be grateful that Greg stormed out. 

He supposes that it was his fault that a rookie cop poked his head to ask what he'd said to piss 'that guy' off, and at David's unintelligible response, stepped into the room, and then glanced around and saw the half-open dresser drawer. It was certainly his fault that David was too busy glowering at the wife's gold ring that he was trying to collect trace off of that he didn't notice what the rookie cop was doing until the man said, 'Hey, look at that.' It was his fault that David's snarled 'Don't touch _anything_' came a half-second too late, and that the rookie cop opened the dresser all the way and set off the booby-trap that the killer had left behind. 

Therefore, David later concludes, laying in a hospital bed and feeling oddly calm thanks to the morphine drip, it was his fault that his world had suddenly turned upside down, filled with a white-hot light, and that he had been thrown backwards, away from the wife's corpse, the intense heat and blast of boiling air slamming into his face and stealing his breath away. 

The rest of his memory about the explosion is fuzzy around the edges, mostly made up of a patchwork of his five senses. He remembers the bone-bruising impact of the doorframe against his shoulder as he tumbled against it, and the unmistakable smell of burned flesh filling his nostrils. He remembers the taste of copper in his mouth and how he had almost choked on blood from his split lip, and the way that the ringing in his ears hadn't quite managed to drown out Greg's panicked shouts. He remembers firm hands -- Brass and Greg's, he would learn later -- grabbing at him and hauling him from the room, and the agony like a slowly twisting knife as they inadvertently tugged on his dislocated shoulder. And most of all, he remembers the darkness that had swathed his sight, and then slowly suppressed the rest of his senses, and how he had slid into the darkness, his ears still filled with the ringing and Greg's loud, desperate cries of his name. 

Now, as David lays in a hospital bed and hears the steady dripping of the morphine into his veins and listens to the doctor's calm explanation of his injuries (first-degree burns on his face, a dislocated shoulder, and slight damage to his retinas), he understands that somehow he has brought this upon himself. Above all else, he is a big believer in karma. So he just nods gingerly when the doctor asks if he understands that the blindness is just temporary and will last at the most a week, and then resists the urge to laugh bitterly as the doctor asks if he has anyone to take care of him for the week. (He doubts if his cat is what the doctor has in mind.) 

He resists the urge to laugh again, this time in aggravation, when his fellow technicians (and Greg, who has apparently had a turnaround and become a tech wannabe rather than a CSI wannabe) cluster around his bed and plot out a schedule that will allow at least one of them to be at his house at all times. 'I don't need a babysitter,' he lisps through his split lip, and judging by the silence, they are pointedly ignoring his words, though he can only guess at their expressions. 'I _don't_.' 

_(It is only now, with bandages covering David's eyes, that Greg allows worry to color his face and show in the way his hands shake violently as he runs them through his hair. His voice, when he speaks, is filled only with exasperation and not the genuine concern that is on his face as he says, 'It's only for a damn week, David,' and so it is only the other lab technicians who see the unquestionable affection that shines in Greg's deep brown eyes. _

Archie watches as David growls a testy response back, and as Greg and David begin to bicker, he wonders when the two will stop being figuratively blind.)

 

*

 

David realizes this is going to be the longest week of his life long before he is released from the hospital and sent home. After all, the 'temporary' darkness is accompanied by a slight clenching in his gut of almost-fear, which is ridiculous, really, because David hasn't been afraid of the dark since he was seven; after a day of this, the slight clenching of his gut is beginning to negatively affect his appetite, and David knows he's going to get fretted over once he gets home and the other lab technicians realize it wasn't just the hospital food that had stolen his appetite. 

  
Truthfully, though, it isn't _quite_ as horrible as he expected it to be. He gets an entire week of pointed insults without any retribution, because no one would insult a blind man (except Greg and Jacqui, but somehow David suspects that even if he had been crippled by the accident, those two still wouldn't hesitate to bicker with him). He knows this because he spends the first day home viciously insulting every lab rat that visits him, trying to get them to leave him in peace, and out of the entire group, only Greg and Jacqui snap something back -- the rest just go quiet or mutter apologies. 

However, he quickly runs into problems that he didn't even consider while in the hospital. Like how he doesn't know his apartment as well as he thinks he does (several banged shins teach him this), and then there's the whole issue with taking a bath. His bandages can't come off his eyes yet, so he has to be careful with them, and his arm is still out of commission, but still he swears to Buddha and any other deity that he'll be damned before he lets anyone help him take a fucking shower. (He ends up having to compromise and take baths instead, with one of his 'babysitters' filling up the bathtub for him, and he ignores the sensation of almost-panic that clutches at his heart whenever he has to carefully lift himself out of the bathtub and step out into darkness.) 

And then there's the issue of what to do with his babysitters while they are watching him like starved hawks eyeing a mouse in the grass, and how to keep them from _touching_him. It's almost funny, how they struggle to figure out things to do that David can participate in, and how they keep forgetting that he can't see. Like Bobby will turn on the TV and after a moment go, "Oh, right," and turn it back off. Or Mandy will start laughing at something Snowden is doing and go, "Man, David, your cat's crazy -- just look at…." and trail off. You'd think with the bandages still on his face, they'd remember, but no. David finds himself almost grateful for their idiocy. It certainly brightens his day and gives him plenty of ammo to insult them with. After a while, they start bringing music, and David has to put up with the various horrible genres that the other lab rats enjoy. The entire group also learns very quickly that David doesn't appreciate being touched without permission, and they are careful not to touch him until they absolutely have to (like to stop him from hitting his shin -- again).

It takes until the third day for someone to notice that he's not eating, and of all people to realize it, it's Archie. (David would've thought the A/V tech too engrossed in fantasy to notice things like people not eating.) And then comes the fretting, and Jacqui trying to force-feed him, and finally Greg challenging him to a game of poker. If Greg wins, David will eat three square meals a day, even if he has no appetite, and if David wins, he can eat whenever he feels like it (even if whenever means never). Of course, David can't exactly _see_ his cards, so he suspects this isn't going to go well, but David has never backed down from a challenge, and he's not about to start now. 

_(Jacqui walks in just as David shows his cards to Greg. _

'Aw, an ace, a jack, an eight, a seven and a four. Too bad, Dave,' Greg says with a grin, and Jacqui blinks in confusion, because David has a flush and has obviously won the game. She watches David's expression darken. 

'You cheated,' he informs the CSI. 'Not only that, but you cheated on a blind person. You should be ashamed of yourself.' 

'I wasn't cheating!' Greg pauses. 'And you're only temporarily blind anyway. Now eat.' Shooting a victorious grin in Jacqui's direction, he shoves a plate of food towards David, who wrinkles his nose in disgust. 

'You're going to hell,' David mutters, adding a profanity under his breath as he fumbles for the spoon and begins to eat, each gesture exaggeratedly reluctant.

Jacqui watches as Greg hovers over David and observes him swallow every spoonful, and as Greg's expression softens, she wonders if being temporarily blind will make David see things more clearly.) 

 

*

 

David thinks he is handling things pretty well -- he hasn't kicked anyone out of the house yet, or threatened to call the police and have them arrested for trespassing, or tried to escape out the window. 

That's until the fourth day, when the itching starts. First-degree burns are a lot like really bad sunburns, the doctor had explained, but nothing could have prepared David for this torment. 

The itching is _ceaseless_, but even just rubbing his palms against the burned skin sends tiny lightning bolts of agony down his spine, enough to choke the breath from him, and so David is helpless against this incessant torture. 

When Wendy asks him if he's okay (he's been 'unusually quiet' today), he almost tears her head off. He erupts into a barrage of profanity a second later when he steps on Snowden's tail, and then lets loose another volley when he bumps into doorframe of his bedroom, jarring his shoulder, and ignores Wendy's bemused calling of his name as he locks himself inside. He immediately begins to pace (as long as walking three strides and then turning and repeating those few steps can be considered pacing -- David isn't in the mood for another banged shin). 

This is apparently enough to call in reinforcements, because a few minutes later Bobby and Greg are in his apartment, and Greg is knocking loudly and obnoxiously on his bedroom and asking him if he's in pain. 

He doesn't answer, still pacing and glaring into the unceasing darkness, and grits his teeth when Greg bangs louder. Perfect, now he has a headache on _top_ of the incessant itching. David only stops pacing when Bobby threatens to break down the door, and since he happens to like that door and knows Bobby will make good on his threat if he feels David's in trouble he fumbles his way to the door and reluctantly opens it. 

'Don't glare at me,' he says peevishly, knowing that their expressions must be ones of annoyance, and then frowns in bewilderment as Bobby asks 'Are you okay, David?' with concern coloring his soft Georgian drawl. 

For a moment, David struggles for words meant to reassure Bobby rather than to defend himself, but before he can figure out what to say, Greg asks, 'Your burns beginning to itch?' 

David twists and stares in the direction he thought Greg's voice had come from, and realizes his hand that is gripping the doorknob is beginning to ache (the knuckles are probably white, he thinks as he loosens his grasp). 'Maybe,' he mutters after a moment, and frowns when Greg sighs. 

'You know, the doctor _did_ give you a prescription for a special cream that will relieve itching and discomfort.' 

His frown deepens into a scowl. He hadn't exactly been listening to the doctor droning on and on about how being temporarily disabled would take some time getting used to. 

_('I knew that,' David says irritably, even though he obviously didn't, and Bobby and Greg exchange a look of shared exasperation before Bobby says, 'I'll get ya the cream. Jacqui picked it up for ya yesterday.' _

When Bobby twists off the cap and hands the cream to David, he notices a slightly uncertain expression flicker across the other man's face and thinks how it's funny that David has been having trouble controlling his expression while he's blind. It seems like not being able to see makes you forget that other people can still see you. 

'I had to put cream on my back,' Greg says quietly. 'I'll show you how to do it.' 

And again there is a flicker of emotion -- this time one of half relief, half-gratitude -- before David rolls his eyes and smirks. 'I'm sure you didn't apply this junk blind-folded.' 

Bobby watches as Greg shakes his head and follows David into the bedroom, and as the door shuts quietly behind them, he wonders if a flicker of emotion will finally open Greg's eyes to the fact that David returns his feelings.) 

 

*

 

Finally the week is through, and the bandages get to come off David's eyes. He'll still have to stay out of direct sunlight for a while (good thing he works graveyard shift) and continue to apply that cream for a little bit longer, but David really doesn't care as long as he's able to _see_. 

The doctor takes forever with the final bandage, until David's teeth are grinding together and his hands are clenched into fists at his sides, but at last, _at last_ the final layer is off. David opens his eyes and frowns in confusion, seeing soft smudges of color rather than faces. 

'It'll take a moment for your eyes to adjust,' the doctor says, and David slowly unclenches his fists and waits until the colors get firmer and become more defined, and then looks around for Greg. 

The other man is easy to pick out -- he's wearing a horrible blue-and-green T-shirt -- and even though everything is still a little blurry, David rolls his eyes and says, 'We're playing a poker game, and this time I can bloody _see_ so you won't be able to cheat.' 

Greg grins at that. 'And this time you'll lose just as horribly and discover I'm not a cheater, you're just a crappy poker player.' 

David shoots him what he hopes is a you've-got-to-be-fucking-joking look, and apparently it is because Greg's grin widens and the CSI says in an ultra-sweet tone, 'I guess we'll see after this game.'

David just smirks and knows full well that he's going to beat Greg. The other man doesn't have a poker face at all. 

_('Though what's the wager now?' Greg asks, pulling David's car keys from his pockets and twirling them idly as the two leave the room, the rest of the technicians trailing after them. 'I mean, you're obviously gonna eat willingly again….' _

David glances at him, and obviously he hasn't quite gotten full control of his expression back, because there's something almost soft in his face as he drawls, 'I'm sure we'll think of something.' 

And David is no longer blind, so he can see the slight redness that stains Greg's cheeks at that, and the slightly uncertain but hopeful grin on the other man's face as Greg mumbles, 'I have a few ideas.' 

David shoots him another look, this one almost pensive, and Greg looks back, and they just gaze at each other for a long moment before their lips simultaneously curve upwards, David's into an almost pleased smirk and Greg's into a bright grin. 

Then David slides his sunglasses on and the entire group steps outside into the blinding sunlight.) 

 


End file.
